


Hadrea Potter: A Fox is Born

by TheLocalDreamer



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fem!Harry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-16
Updated: 2017-11-07
Packaged: 2018-12-03 01:50:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11522031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLocalDreamer/pseuds/TheLocalDreamer
Summary: Hadrea Potter was fed up with her life. For nine years she lived as a slave, only to find out that there was a whole other world her relatives had been keeping secret, a world of Magic. She makes a decision. Its time to take control of her own life. And what a bumpy ride it becomes!A fem!Harry story. Paring is HadreaxGeorge, others down the road, probably NevillexLuna but idk yet. Hope you enjoy!





	1. Trunks, Traveling and Twins

**Author's Note:**

> Heyyyy Its a Harry Potter fic! Harry Potter was my first fandom (way back when I was seven years old wow!) so its very near and dear to my heart. This story is pretty lame I'm sure, but I hope you enjoy anyway! :D

**Chapter 1: Trunks, Traveling and Twins**

 

Hadrea Lily Potter was sick of it. She was sick of her life, or lack thereof. Eight years, eight _miserable_ years she had spent here, without any friends or family, at Number 4, Privet Drive. That wasn't to say she lived here alone, no indeed. Three others lived here with her, the Man, who looked at her with fear and hatred, the Woman, who sent jealous glares her way but couldn't look her in the eyes, and the Child, who viewed her as nothing more than his personal punching bag.

Of course, they had names. The woman was Petunia Dursley, Hadrea’s mother's sister. The Man was her husband, Vernon, and the Child her son, Dudley. Hadrea had lived with them since her parents died, when she was but a year old. Hadrea hated them, and she was quite sure the feeling was mutual.

She would do anything to go somewhere else, to _be_ someone else, but she knew nothing of her parents, of any family or friends they could possibly have had. She had considered running away, but a nine year old girl living on her own, however happily, was sure to draw attention, and then the police would be involved and she'd be back to the Dursleys within a week. No, it was best she stuck around, _for now._

“Girl! Where are you, I want you to clean out the attic!” her Aunt's screeching voice jarred Hadrea out from her musings. It was a sunny day in late June, and she’d been sitting on a grassy spot under a large Hydrangea bush, drawing with a sketchbook and pencils she had stolen from her cousin. (Well, she said stolen, but he was never going to use them anyway, they were just collecting dust like the many other things in Dudley's second bedroom.) She was drawing a fox. Foxes had always fascinated her; quiet but clever, seemingly shy but still vicious. ‘ _Sorta like you.’_ a little voice in her head said. ‘ _Shut up!’_ she told it.

“Get in here, Girl!” she heard her aunt calling again. Hadrea sighed, stood up, and brushed the earth and leaves off her body. Quickly She closed the sketchbook and box of pencils, and hid them in amongst the branches and leaves of the hydrangea bush. However little ‘Ickle Diddykins’ cared about them, it would not do for her aunt and uncle to find them.

Hadrea moved into the kitchen, where her aunt was waiting. Petunia was thin and blonde, but that was where the attractiveness ended. She had a horsey face and an unusually long neck, and her chin jutted out rather farther than average.

“I want you to clean out the attic.” she said again, glaring and Hadrea (but still refusing to meet her eyes).

“Why?” Hadrea asked insolently “no one ever goes in there!”

“Don't ask questions!” her aunt snapped, the glare becoming, if possible even sharper. _Don't ask questions._ That was the first rule for a quiet life with the Dursleys. It was also the reason for what Hadrea considered her most impressive quality.

 

From a very young age she'd understood that she wasn't going to learn anything from the Dursleys (besides how to clean their house, cook their food and spend the rest of the time pretending she didn't exist), so she'd decided she had to start figuring things out for herself.

She’d learned to observe people. She could tell just by watching someone whether they were lying or telling the truth. She could learn a lot about a person just from watching them. An example of this was her aunt. Petunia always looked at her with jealousy. She also refused to look her in the eyes. She refused to talk about Hadrea’s mum. This lead Hadrea to the conclusion that Petunia had been jealous of her sister for some reason,and something about Hadrea (probably her eyes) reminded Petunia of her.

“Get going upstairs, brat!” her aunt screeched. The Dursleys never called Hadrea by her name, in fact, she hadn't even known her name until she'd gone to school. It had always been ‘Girl’ or ‘Brat’. When Hadrea had asked her aunt about it, her aunt had replied “ _Hadrea_ ! What a freakish name! As if we'd be seen calling you _that!”_

Hadrea quickly took a broom, a cloth and a bucket of soapy water and retreated to the dusty, smelly attic. Hadrea had never been up here... in fact, it looked as if   _no one_ had been up here for several years. She quickly set about shifting the boxes and trunks to one half of the room, so that she could begin cleaning the other half.

As she worked, a certain trunk caught her eye. It appeared expensive, and it had a name embossed across the top in gold lettering.

_Lily Evans Potter_

It read. Hadrea’s heart leapt. She knew her last name was Potter, and Petunia’s maiden name was Evans. _Could this be her mother's?_ Abandoning her cleaning, Hadrea pulled the trunk out of the corner and directly under the single naked lightbulb, so that she could see clearly.

She undid the two latches and heaved the lid open. Hadrea’s eyes widened in surprise. The trunk appeared to be a good deal bigger on the inside than it was on the outside. The first thing she saw was a mass of black fabric. She lifted the thing out and discovered that it was some sort or robe, black with scarlet trimming. Underneath it was what Hadrea recognised to be a girl's school uniform.  A white blouse, black skirt, stockings and shoes, and a striped red and gold tie, along with a scarf, also striped with red and gold. There was some sort or crest on the blouse, as well as on the robes. A lion, an eagle, a badger, and a snake, surrounding a big letter H. Hadrea was surprised to find that none of the clothes looked worn, or holey, or dirty at all, despite having been there for a long time, judging by the amount of dust on the trunk.

Under the clothes were books. Loads of books whose titles made no sense go Hadrea. Titles like “A beginner's guide to transfiguration, by Emeric Switch, or The Standard Book of spells, Grade 4 By Miranda Goshawk. One book, a small, silver one without any title or writing caught her eye. It looked like a journal. Hadrea picked it up and opened the cover. On the inside, in neat lettering much like Hadrea’s own It read:

 _This Journal is the_ _Property of Lily Evans_

Hadrea quickly slipped the journal into her pocket, stuffed the clothes back it to the trunk and shut the lid. _I'll come back_. She promised, before continuing on with her cleaning.

                                                                                                       .oOOo.

Later that day, Hadrea sat in her room (which was actually just a cupboard) looking at a mirror portrait she'd done herself, and wondering if she looked anything like her parents. She had a thin face, with high cheekbones and a slightly upturned nose. Her eyes were wide, almond shaped and framed by thick, dark lashes. They were a bright, emerald green and sparkled with mischief. Her lips were thin, and seemed to be set in a perpetual sly smirk that, combined with the mischievousness of her eyes, made any teacher check their seat for tacks and swear never to take their eyes off her. Her hair was wavy and black, the sort of black that almost looked blue, and was cut to not quite touch her shoulders with a long fringe that tapered out just below her left ear. It was choppy and slightly uneven (which did nothing to help her troublemaker look) because she'd had to cut herself. It was dangerous to have long hair. Long hair could be pulled, long hair could get caught when climbing trees. It was simply impractical.

Hadrea also had a scar on her forehead. Scars were nothing special, at least, not to Hadrea. She had one on her right forearm, (a large burn from when she was six and had spilled a pot of boiling water on herself when cooking dinner) and another which wrapped around her left ankle (she'd been running from Dudley's gang, and had gotten caught in some old barbed wire fencing), amongst many others. But this scar was different. She’d had it as long as she could remember, and the first question she could ever remember asking her Aunt Petunia was how she had gotten it. ("In the car crash when your parents died. and don't ask questions!” her aunt had said, but Hadrea knew she had been lying) it was long, on the left side of her face, running from her hairline down to the corner of her eye, and was shaped like a bolt of lightning. This scar was the reason for her long fringe. Not the thought it made her look ugly, no, Hadrea was actually rather proud of her scars, they showed that she was a fighter. But this one she disliked. She’d had it for eight years, and it hadn't faded in the slightest. It garnered her a lot of unwanted attention.

Hadrea was small and wiry, because she spent a great deal of her time running. She looked even smaller than she really was because all she had to wear were old clothes of Dudley's, and Dudley was a boy, and about four times bigger than she was. She also wore round glasses, held together by a lot of Scotch tape because of all the times Dudley had punched her on the nose.

She wondered if either of her parents had worn glasses. This brought her back to her mother's diary. It was late, the Dursleys wouldn't bother her now. She slipped the little book out from under her tiny mattress and opened it up to the first entry.

_Jan. 30, 1970_

_Dear Diary,_

_Sev got me this book for my 10th birthday! He says he got it from a wizarding shop called Flourish and Blotts. He says it's magical, and it'll keep adding pages so I'll never need a new one! Isn't magic amazing?! I can't wait to go to Hogwarts and learn everything!..._

 

           The entries went on and on, and Hadrea read late into the night. You might have thought she'd be guilty about reading another’s diary, but her mother was, after all, dead.

           Hadrea learned that ‘Sev’ was Severus Snape, a boy that lived near the Evans’. She learned that her mother was a witch, and that there was a school called Hogwarts that sent you a letter when you were eleven and told you to come learn magic. She learned that there was a wizard called Lord Voldemort who thought that wizards were better than muggles, and wanted to take over the world.

Certain bits stuck out to her, such as ‘ _Tuney still hates me. Sev says it's because she's jealous I'm a witch’_ which confirmed Hadrea’s suspicions of her Aunt's jealous, or ‘ _Severus has done something awful. That toerag Potter and his friends were bullying him again, and I went to help, but he called me a mudblood. We aren't talking anymore. He's gone too far.’_ this entry’s pages were smudged and wrinkled with what looked like tears, and the word ‘Mudblood’ was written in an angry scrawl. Hadrea read and read. She read through her mother's school years, she read about her marriage, and about her becoming pregnant, until she saw an entry that said:

_April 13, 1980_

_Bad news. Dumbledore says we must go into hiding. He says Voldemort is after the baby, though he won't tell us why. We're moving to the cottage in Godric’s Hollow, and going under the protection of the Fidelius Charm. James wants Sirius to be secret keeper, but Remus and I think it’s a bad idea. Not that Sirius would ever betray us, Never! But everyone knows that he's James’ most trusted friend; it's just too obvious._

So Voldemort had been after her? That didn't bode well, from what she'd read of him so far. The next entry that really interested her was a few months later.

_July 31, 1980_

_It's a girl! We've decided to call her Hadrea Lily, after James’ Grandmother Dorea and my Father, Harold. And me, obviously. James has named Sirius as her godfather. There was this great magical ceremony and everything. James says it means that Sirius can never do anything that will harm her.  She's already shown to have some Black traits, as soon as we got home, her hair changed color to as orange as the cat’s! She's a metamorphmagus alright. Her eyes are like mine, and her hair was black like James’ when she was born (though now I think it's purple!)_

Hadrea smiled. So, she had her mother's eyes, and her father's hair? And she was a metamorphmagus? She'd read an entry about them before. But why couldn't she do it anymore? Perhaps she'd find out if she read more. Hadrea glanced at the old alarm clock which she'd repaired herself.  It was nearly 2am. She’d read more tomorrow.

                                                                                              .oOOo.

The next day, she sat once again under the Hydrangea bush. Her ‘family’ had gone out, and she had the day to herself. Her mother's journal lay open once again upon her lap, and she'd just reached another important date.

_July 31, 1981_

_It's Ree’s first birthday!  Sirius got her her first broomstick. It hovers barely a foot off the ground, but we've had to move all the furniture, and the poor cat has been terrorized!  Now that she's a year old we've decided to get her magic restrained.  It's becoming a problem, especially her metamorphosing, old Bathilda says she hasn't seen a child this powerful since Albus Dumbledore himself! On other news, I've finally convinced James and Sirius to switch secret keepers. Sirius and James decided on Peter rather than Remus. I'd never have believed it, but they think Remus is the spy! It's just more wizarding prejudice against Lycanthropy and I can't stand it!_

 

These months while the Potters were in hiding were dull to read for the most part, with occasional bits of sad news, such as ‘ _the Bones’ have been attacked. Amelia and little Susan survived, but everyone else is gone.’_ or ‘ _The Death Eaters found poor Marlene. Evidence says she put up quite the struggle, but they've found her body, with the dark mark set over the house.’_ or ‘ _The Prewett Twins were finally found today. Dead. It was in the paper.’_

Finally on the date of Halloween, 1981, There were three words, written in what was clearly a hurry, if the ripped paper and ink blots were any indication. All it said was ’ _HE FOUND US’._ Hadrea took this to mean that Peter had betrayed them, Voldemort had found them, and this was the day they died.

         Hadrea didn't think she could stand being here for one more moment, knowing what she did. But the fact remained that she was a nine year old girl, and she wouldn't be allowed to  live on her own.

 

_Wait a minute…_

 

                                                                                                        .oOOo. 

It was August when there was finally a day that the Dursleys were out for the day and Hadrea was able to slip away.

As soon as the Dursleys had left, Hadrea put on her best pair of clothes, which actually fit- she only wore them when her relatives weren’t around as she got them under somewhat suspicious circumstances (also called pickpocketing bullies at school and buying them when the Dursleys were out- she didn’t feel guilty, those jerks deserved it). It was a Star Wars t-shirt, some ripped jeans and a leather jacket, along with some ratty trainers of Dudley’s. She looked, in short, even more of a rebel than normal. She also carried a bag with some important things in it.

Then she stepped out of the house, walked down the street a ways to Mrs. Figg’s house. She wasn't home, as Hadrea knew. Hadrea also knew that she had a window on the second floor near a tree, which she left open so her cats could come and go as they pleased. _Crazy Lady!_ Hadrea thought. She climbed the and slipped in the window, before walking downstairs and into the sitting room. By the fireplace was a pot of some strange looking powder, as Hadrea knew there would be. Mrs. Figg was her babysitter, and she'd noticed the flower pot before knowing what it was. Floo Powder.

Hadrea took a handful of the powder and threw it into the flames which turned bright green. She then stepped into the fire place and called out:

“Saint Mungo’s!”

And then she was spinning as fast as a top. She soon had to shut her eyes as she felt sick. The fire felt like warm hands, slapping her face gently. Then, as suddenly as it had started, she slammed down into an empty fireplace, and had to stumble forward before her momentum pulled her to the floor. Coughing, and  brushing ash off herself, she looked about.

She was in a large, white room lined with fireplaces. A sign in front of her read:

ST MUNGO’S HOSPITAL FOR MAGICAL MALADIES AND INJURIES

Sterilizer  <-

Visitor’s Directory ^

Help Desk ->

        First Hadrea went to the sterilizer, where she was given a near instantaneous shower and dried off, clothes and all.

Then, she walked in the direction of the help desk. A bored looking blonde lady was sitting behind it reading a magazine called _Witch Weekly._

“Excuse me,” Hadrea began, and the woman looked up at her. “Can you recommend a Healer for me to go to, to remove magical power restraints?”

“Of course, dear.” The woman said, smiling. “For Magical Restraint Removal, go to Healer MacMillan’s office. Here, take this. It's a voice activated portkey.  Just tell it what office you want, and it'll take you straight there. All I ask is that you return it when you're done.”

“Thank you!” Hadrea replied, giving her a smile.

“You're welcome. I'll let them know you're coming. What's your name, dear?”

“Oh.. er.. Hadrea Potter.” She replied, before accepting the small wooden cube the woman offered, and telling it “Healer MacMillan’s office.” She just had time to see a dumbstruck look come over the Woman’s face and her eyes flick up to where The lightning scar was hidden under her fringe before she felt a strange pull at her navel, and once again she was spinning. This time, the trip was shorter, and she landed staggering, on yet more white tiled floor with white walls. There was a door in front of her, which read, ‘Elizabeth MacMillan, magical restraints’.

Hadrea took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

“Come in!” A kind voice said. Hadrea entered the room to see a fancy doctor's chair and a woman in white robes.

“Ah.. Hadrea Potter I presume?” the woman asked, arching an eyebrow at her.

“Yes Ma'am.” Hadrea replied. “I've just found out that my mother had magical restraints put on me when I was a year old, and they never got removed. Can you do that?”

“Indeed I can Miss Potter.”She replied, smiling. “Just step over here, please.”

                                                                                                     .oOOo.

An hour later found Hadrea stumbling out of the floo once again. It was only 11:30am, she had plenty of time to visit Diagon Alley.

She was in a pub called the Leaky Cauldron, which her mother had said was the entrance to the magical shopping area.  You had to walk through to the back of the pub where there was a solid brick wall. Tapping a certain brick with your wand would make them move and open the entrance. The trouble was, Hadrea didn’t have a wand. So she had to wait until someone else was wanting to come in or out of the Alley.

She remembered her mother's description of the bank; made of white marble, with golden doors flanked by goblins. Hadrea also remembered what her mum had written about goblin culture, so when she arrived at the bank and the goblins bowed to her, she stopped and gave a small bow to each of them in return. They gave her a surprised look, nodded to each other, and one of them disappeared into a smaller door Hadrea hadn't seen before. Hadrea didn’t know it, but the goblin was quickly informing the tellers inside to treat this witch with respect. She walked up to the golden doors and read the inscription upon the door:

_Enter, Stranger, but take heed_

_Of what awaits the sin of greed,_

_For those who take, but do not earn_

_Must pay most dearly in their turn._

_So if you seek beneath our floors_

_A treasure that was never yours,_

_Thief, you have been warned, beware_

_Of finding more than treasure there._

 

‘ _Well that's not unnerving at all.’_ Hadrea thought wryly. She stepped into the bank and was immediately impressed by how grand the room was. She stepped up to the first free goblin, who, after looking up from his parchments and papers, said “Greetings and welcome to Gringotts Bank. What service can we provide you today?”

“Greetings. My name is Hadrea Potter. I'd like to see Account Keeper Gornuk please” she said politely, after the goblin had looked down at her.

He nodded. “I'll have someone take you to him. Belnok!” Another goblin stepped forward.

“Follow me, please.” He said, gesturing with his clawed hand. Hadrea followed him into a passageway off the main room, down a hall, and up to a door labeled ‘Senior Account Keeper Gornuk’. Belnok opened the door and gestured inside.

“Hadrea Potter to see you, Senior.” he told the goblin inside. Hadrea stepped into the room.

“Greetings, Senior Account Keeper.” she said, bowing respectfully.

The goblin raised a single eyebrow, which was the only clue Hadrea needed to know that he was surprised. From what she had read in her mother’s journal, the Goblins probably weren’t used to being treated with respect.

“Miss Potter.” The goblin greeted, bowing as well. “We weren’t expecting you for two more years, but no matter. Do sit.” He continued, gesturing towards a desk with chairs on either side.

Hadrea sat, and the goblin walked around the desk to sit as well. Hadrea noticed with a little amusement that his chair was extra high so that he sat level with the much taller human on the other side of the desk. (Though because Hadrea was a rather small nine year old, she wasn’t much bigger anyway).

“Now, the first thing to do is to verify that you really are Hadrea Lily Potter.” Gornuk began, and seeing the look of indignation that began to show on Hadrea’s face, he quickly reassured her, “Not that I doubt who you are, but it is procedure. If someone else were to get their hands on your fortune, it would be very bad news for this bank, not to mention yourself.”

Hadrea couldn’t disagree with this, so she willingly complied with what the goblin wanted her to do. First, he took a piece of parchment from a drawer in his desk and set it in front of her. Then, he took a small silver knife from the same drawer, and held it out to her. “Just cut your palm and drip a bit of blood onto the parchment.” he instructed.

Hadrea did as he asked, and as soon as her blood hit the parchment, words began appearing on it. She was so interested in the words that she didn’t notice as her hand healed from the cut. The paper read:

_Hadrea Lily Potter_

_Parents: James Charlus Potter and Lily Anne Potter ne_ _é Evans_

_Paternal Grandparents: Fleamont Cygnus Potter and Cassandra Elizabeth Potter neé Greengrass_

_Maternal Grandparents: Thomas Benjamin Evans and Abigail Sarah Evans neé Hodgkins_

The family tree continued with Hadrea’s great, great-great, and even great-great-great grandparents, but Hadrea stopped reading when Gornuk spoke again.

“Very good.” The goblin said. Now, to business. Your parents’ will-”

“My Parents had a will?” Hadrea interjected, before realising she had been rather rude and apologizing sheepishly.

“No matter Miss Potter. Now, to continue, your parents’ will was sealed until the time of your majority, or when you turn seventeen. The Family vault with all of your assets as well as certain family heirlooms is also sealed to you until you reach seventeen, but you have a trust vault which will refill to 100,000 galleons every year.”

“Okay… Sorry, but what’s the conversion of galleons to british pounds?” Hadrea asked, feeling unsure about how much money that really was.

“Currently, 1 galleon is equal to nearly 5 british pounds.” The goblin answered.

Hadrea’s eyes widened. This was her _trust vault?!_ Well, she supposed she didn’t need to worry about starving anymore, and she’d never have to pickpocket again. Her family really must be rich to be able to allow a child that much money.  

“There isn’t much more I can do for you at the moment Miss Potter, as your magical guardian wants you to not have to worry about your family’s business until you’re older.”

“Who is my magical guardian?” Hadrea asked.

“Your magical guardian is the same as all those who grow up in non-magical families. It is the Headmaster of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore. As I was saying, I can’t give you access to the family vault, but I can give you the key to your trust vault, as well as this.” and here Gornuk held out a small black pouch, about big enough to just barely fit Hadrea’s fist inside. “This is a Gringotts money pouch. With it, you can draw any amount of gold from your trust vault without having to worry about carrying it all with you. You can take any currency from it, including non-magical money. Also, it is keyed to you, so only you can draw money from it.”

“That’s great! Thank you.” Hadrea said, smiling at Gornuk. She took the pouch and key and stood up. “Well, it was a pleasure meeting you Gornuk. I look forward to when we can do more business together.”

                                                                                                       .oOOo. 

It was 1:00 p.m., and Hadrea was back in Diagon Alley, now equipped with enough money to last her a lifetime. She stopped for a quick lunch in the Leaky Cauldron, and amused herself by observing all the different people inside the small pub. At one point a large family came pouring out of the floo, six kids all with flaming red hair. The mother, a plump lady whose hair was as red as her children’s, guided her brood through the pub and bustled out into the Alley beyond. As they passed, Hadrea noticed that two of them were twins; tall, freckled boys who looked about eleven years old. One of them saw her watching and threw her a wink and a little wave of the hand. There was a glint of mischief in both the twin’s blue eyes that reminded Hadrea of her own.

Before leaving the pub, Hadrea quickly ducked into the bathroom and stepped up to the mirror. ‘ _right’_ she thought, ‘ _time to see if this works.’_

She began to concentrate on her appearance, and gasped in surprise when she saw herself begin to change. Her hair lightened to golden blonde, straightened out and grew to her mid-back, with her fringe shortening to fall evenly over her forehead. Her eyes eyes lightened to more of a pale blue-green. She discovered that for some reason, she couldn't remove the lightning scar. But she could change its location,  so she moved it to her back. She didn't like or understand the attention it garnered. She had noticed it first in St. Mungo’s, and then again on her way to the bank. Wherever she went, people were gaping and gawking at her. Finally, she stripped off her clothes before growing taller and wider until she was about the size of her aunt. Then she slipped on her mother’s old school uniform. She looked like a seventeen year old girl now, and she’d fit in with all the other kids out getting their school things. She stepped back out into the pub, and waited patiently for someone else to open the entrance into Diagon Alley.

After her delicious lunch, the first place Hadrea went was Madame Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions, where she picked up a set of casual Blue robes to change into. Next, she went to the luggage store, where she purchased a small blue backpack, which had an undetectable extension charm, which made it much bigger on the inside, as well as a feather light charm, so that it wouldn’t get too heavy. It would be frightfully useful.

Now to Flourish and Blotts. Here she really spent money. Books upon books she bought, on every subject imaginable. She didn’t bother getting the basic school course books, because she could just use her mother’s (which conveniently also contained all of her mother’s notes). But she bought books on every subject she could find. Hadrea enjoyed nature and the outdoors very much, so she was particularly interested in Care of Magical Creatures, Herbology and Astronomy. Another thing that piqued her interest was Occlumency, the art of protecting one’s mind against intrusion. This seemed like a very useful skill to Hadrea, so she took every book she could find on this subject as well. She also bought a book called ‘ _Hogwarts: A History’_ which could tell her all about the school she’d be going to when she turned eleven.

Finally, when she was getting ready to check out, she noticed a shelf with a sign over it reading ‘Hadrea Potter’. Understandably curious, she walked over to the shelf and began to peruse the tomes. Some were clearly a fictional series, with titles like ‘ _Hadrea Potter and the Dark Dungeon, ‘Hadrea Potter and the Ridgeback’s Revenge’,_ or ‘ _Hadrea Potter and the Mysterious Mountain’,_ but some seemed to be nonfiction, such as ‘ _Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century’, The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts,_ and ‘ _Modern Magical History’._ Hadrea chose all of these, as well as a couple of the fictional ones, before taking her load to the front and paying for them. The saleswoman’s eyes practically bugged out of their sockets at the amount of books Hadrea was buying, as well as the amount of money it was costing her, but Hadrea just handed over the gold and began packing the books into her backpack.

Realising that it was approaching 4:00p.m., Hadrea quickly made her way back to The Leaky Cauldron and slipped into the bathroom to change back into her nine year old self and clothes. Then she flooed back to Mrs. Figg’s house (who was still, luckily, not home). She climbed back out of the window and into the back garden, before walking back to the Dursley home. It was nearly five o’clock, they’d be home any minute.

Quickly, she entered her cupboard and changed into the old clothes of Dudley’s, before packing her own in the backpack and hiding it behind a loose wallboard. ‘ _Just in time, too!’_ She thought, as she heard the crunch of gravel on the driveway that signaled the Dursley’s return. She didn’t plan on spending much more time here. She’d go through her mother’s trunk and take what she wanted out of it, and find somewhere else to stay. Then, she’d be out of this house, and out of her relative’s lives, permanently.

After dinner, when she was sure the Dursleys wouldn’t bother her any longer, she sat awake in her cupboard with the light on and a book open on her lap. First she had read ‘ _The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts’_ which told her about the dark wizard Voldemort and why he had killed her parents but not her, where she had really gotten the lightning scar, and why the witches and wizards in Diagon Alley and at the Hospital seemed so interested in her and her scar. Then, she began a book on occlumency, called ‘ _The Power of the Mind: A Guide to Learning Occlumency’_. She learned that the first step to learning Occlumency was to meditate and learn to clear and organize her mind before going to sleep.

She began this process that very night. She focused in on herself, and began to imagine what she’d like her mind to look like. It was like a jungle, with different fruit-bearing trees, which were her memories and knowledge. She began to put up defenses around her jungle. A large river surrounded it first, becoming filled with crocodiles and hippopotamuses, and inside the jungle she created tigers, elephants venomous snakes and many other creatures to protect her mind with. She didn’t go much further than this that night, because it was late, and she needed to have a clear mind before sleep.

Tomorrow was Sunday, so, with luck, the Dursleys would all be out of the house again at some point during the day, and she’d be able to go up to the attic, and maybe use Dudley’s computer to find a flat or something to stay in.  It was this happy thought that comforted her as she drifted off to sleep that night.

                                                                                                     .oOOo.                                                            

The Dursleys were indeed gone all day on Sunday. It was the perfect opportunity, the perfect time for Hadrea to make her escape (not that the Dursleys would complain of her leaving anyway). She first went to the attic and went through the rest of her mum’s trunk. She took all the books and put them in her backpack. There was also a nice telescope, which she packed, but it seemed that most of her mother’s school things had been moved to out of the trunk when she left Hogwarts.

Next she sat at Dudley’s Computer and searched for a flat far away and not in a very populated place. She found just what she was looking for in a town called Ottery St. Catchpole in Devon. The flat was a small, one person flat over a shop. It was perfect.

Now, finally, she changed into her nicer clothes and packed everything into her backpack, before leaving the house for the last time. The first thing she needed to do was get herself some adult muggle clothes to wear when she was disguised. She took a train to London and went on a shopping spree. Hadrea found herself buying clothes in a similar style to what she was wearing now. She bought her first outfit- A navy blue t-shirt, ripped shorts and and black leggings underneath, with black combat boots, before retreating to the fitting room to disguise herself. This time she put more effort into the particulars of her look because this was who she was going to be, most of the time, for the next two years.

She realized afterwards that what she had done was really just creating a future version of herself. Her hair she kept black, but made it shorter and spiky, and added blue streaks into it. Her eyes she did change a bit, because the color was very noticeable, and they became an icy blue-green. Her scar was moved to her lower back once again. Her other scars she left as they were, she wasn’t ashamed of them. She ended up fairly tall, about 5’9 **(A/N I’m not using the metric system- I’m American sorry!)** and she was still quite skinny. She looked like a girl about 19 years old.

Hadrea spent the next several hours buying clothes for herself, and also going to an optometrist to get contacts so she no longer had to wear those hideous glasses. She also let her mischievous side out to play and acquired a fake ID, drivers license and Birth Certificate. She called herself Amaryllis Vulpecula Black. Her parents were random people who had died years ago, had no connections, and would be impossible to either find any information about or prove nonexistent. She then hired a cab to drive her all the way to Ottery St. Catchpole (and boy was it expensive).

Upon arriving in the small village, Hadrea located the woman who was renting out the flat, and paid up front for two years rent of it. Inside, it was already completely furnished. The kitchen was stocked with dishes, pots and pans, the bathroom had a working sink, toilet and shower, the sitting room was complete with couches, bookshelves and a TV, and the bedroom had a chest of drawers, bedside table and bed. Hadrea quickly unpacked all of her things, before changing back to her nine year old self and going out to explore the village. It was very small, with only a few homes, and some basic stores, but it was scenic and Hadrea enjoyed walking around it.

She was walking back down the street, just passing the Paper Shop, when she noticed two boys a little ways ahead of her. Two boys with identical heads of flaming red hair. ‘ _Oh crap!’_ She thought. She’d been attempting to not be noticed. She’d even kept the scar placed on her lower back to attract less attention. She quickly ducked her head down and made to turn into a nearby shop before they noticed her, but-

“Hey! Aren’t you that girl from The Leaky Cauldron?” It was the twin who had winked at her. She gave up her attempt to escape and turned towards the boys.

“That depends on who’s asking.” she replied, eyeing the boys warily.

“So thats a yes then?” The other twin (on the left) asked, flashing her a mischievous grin.

“I suppose so. What does it matter?” She asked cautiously. She wasn’t looking to make friends (or enemies either) while she was staying here. It wouldn’t do her any good, she’d be going to Hogwarts before too long anyway.

“It matters because we don’t get to see many other magical people here! It’s only us and the Lovegoods in this area. Are you moving in?” The twin on the right asked. His grin was infectious, and Hadrea found herself struggling not to return it.

“Why should I tell you? And are you always in the habit of winking at random people in pubs?” She asked. She was trying to act hostile, maybe then she could dissuade them from wanting to talk to her.

“That was me that winked at you.” Left Twin said, “And there’s no need to be so defensive. It was just a question.”

“It wasn’t you! It was the other one. I can tell you apart you know.” Hadrea snapped, folding her arms across her chest.

The twins looked at each other in astonishment. Nobody, not even their own mother had ever been able to tell them apart. Communicating in the nonverbal way that only twins could, they came to a decision.

“I’m George Weasley,” Right Twin said, “And this is Fred, my brother. Are you going to tell us your name, or is that none of our business?”

Hadrea, who _had_ been about to tell them that it was none of their business, found herself opening and closing her mouth, with no sound coming out. George grinned and Fred sniggered behind his hand. Finally, Hadrea settled on scowling at the twins and giving a huff of annoyance. “I’m Amaryllis.”

“Well, Dear Miss Amaryllis”, replied George in a pompous voice, “To answer your earlier question, No, I do not make a habit of winking at random people in pubs. Just the pretty girls!” If he’d been hoping to make Hadrea blush, he didn’t succeed. All he got was a twitch of the lips. “Wow! That was almost a smile! I’ll win you over someday!” George cried. The scowl returned, but the twins just roared with laughter and ran off down the street.

“See you around, Amaryllis!” They yelled in unison. Once their backs were turned, Hadrea found herself grinning. She hated to admit it, but she had liked the twins a lot, and she hoped she would see them around again.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey its a second chapter! If anyone made it past the first one, I hope you're enjoying.

**Chapter 2: Happiness, Headstones and Houses**

 

_Two years later…_

Hadrea had indeed seen Fred and George again. In fact, they became rather good friends over the summers when the twins weren’t at Hogwarts. Hadrea had been introduced to their family, disguised as a young version of Amaryllis, (seven children, their mum and their dad), and Hadrea had shared her secret with the twins. They knew who she really was, and had sworn (under threat of castration) that they wouldn’t tell anyone until she got to Hogwarts. She had explained about her horrid relatives, and why she’d run away, and that she was a metamorphmagus. In fact, Hadrea had confided so much in those two boys that she had surprised even herself with the level of trust she showed them.

They had told her that they wanted to open a joke shop, and Hadrea had enthusiastically supplied them with endless ideas and helped them to test their products.  She had asked them to continue calling her Amaryllis, because she didn’t want them to accidentally let something slip. But this year would be the end of the secrecy. She was finally going to Hogwarts, where everyone would know who she was. Hadrea knew she was lucky that she already had friends there. She liked the Weasley family very much, though Mrs. Weasley could be a bit overbearing and Percy was very pompous.

“Hey! Amaryllis!” Hadrea heard, and, just like that day two years ago, she was jolted out of her musings as she sat, pencils in hand and sketchbook on her lap. But this time, it wasn’t the nagging voice of her Aunt that interrupted her, but the voice of a Weasley Twin. Hadrea looked up to find that it was George who had called to her, and the twins were running towards her where she sat, under a large willow tree beside a creek.

“Hey George, Hi Fred.” She replied, quickly shutting her sketchbook. However much she trusted the twins, _nobody_ looked at her drawings. “Whats up?”

“We’re going to Diagon Alley to pick up our school things today. Mum wanted to know if you wanted to come with us.”

“Sure. Let me just go back to my flat and put these away”, She gestured towards her sketchbook and pencils, “And grab my letter.” Her Hogwarts letter had arrived, at her flat, a month earlier. She had been worried that the letter would send to the Dursley’s house, or that someone at Hogwarts would find out she’d run away, but The Twins had told her that the letters were addressed automatically, by magic.

She stood up, and felt Déjà vu once again as she brushed the dirt and sticks off her clothes. The Twins opted to come along with her, and she lead them back to her apartment, where she found the letter (Addressed to Hadrea Potter, The Bedroom, 15 Brook St., Ottery St. Catchpole), and dropped off her sketchbook and pencils. Then she followed the twins down the road and up the winding path that lead to The Burrow, the Weasley’s House.

“Hello Amaryllis Dear.” Mrs. Weasley said when Hadrea and the twins entered the kitchen.

“Hello Mrs. Weasley. Thank you for letting me come with you to Diagon Alley.” Hadrea answered, smiling at her.

“Oh of course, dear. You’re practically a member of the family now! Do you have your letter? Ready to go?”

Personally, Hadrea didn’t think being best friends with the twins and having met the rest of the family a few times constituted as being adopted into it, but she only said,

“Yeah, I’ve got my letter. Ready to leave.”

The family crowded around the fireplace, and one by one they floo'd to The Leaky Cauldron. “Alright,” began Mrs. Weasley, “We really have too many people for us all to go together this year, so I’ll take Ginny and Ron and get his things, Percy you can go get yours, and The twins can take Amaryllis to get her things.” She gave Hadrea and the twins a stern look. “I’m trusting you to behave yourselves on your own. Not one step into Knockturn Alley, do you hear me?”

“Yes Mum.” The twins chorused. Hadrea just nodded, fingers crossed behind her back. Secretly, she did plan on making a quick trip around Knockturn Alley sometime, just not now, since she was with the Weasley’s.

She set off with Fred and George, reading off the list of ‘necessary books and equipment’ that was the second page of her letter. She decided to save the wand for last, and first went to the apothecary to get some basic potion ingredients and a cauldron (pewter, standard size 2). Then she Went to Madam Malkin’s to get her school uniform.

“Hogwarts, Dear?” Madam Malkin asked when she entered, “Got the lot here. A young man being fitted out just now, in fact.”

Hadrea went up and stood next to the other boy. He had a pale, pointed face, pale gray eyes, and pale blond hair. Hadrea was distinctly reminded of a vampire, with his long black robes.

“Hello.” The boy said, looking her over in a way that made Hadrea uncomfortable, as if he was trying to find some recognizable or distinctive feature about her, “Hogwarts too?”

“Yes.” Hadrea answered warily.

“My father’s next door buying my books and my mother’s up the street looking at wands.” drawled the boy. Hadrea wondered why his mother was looking for his wand. Wasn’t he supposed to do that himself? “Then I’m going to drag him off to look at racing brooms. I don’t see why first years can’t have their own. I think I’ll bully father into getting me one and I’ll smuggle it in, somehow.” Hadrea narrowed her eyes at the boy. He was reminding her more and more of Dudley.

“Do you have your own broom?” He asked

“No.”

“Play Quidditch at all?”

“No.” This was a lie, Hadrea had played quidditch with the Weasleys quite a bit, but she was trying to make it clear that she wasn’t interested in this conversation.

"I do -- Father says it's a crime if I'm not picked to play for my house, and I must say, I agree. Know what house you'll be in yet?" The boy went on. Hadrea wished he’d shut up.

“Not really… We aren’t supposed to choose, are we? I think I’d be okay in any of them, except maybe Hufflepuff. I’m not the friendliest.”

“Well I _know_ I’ll be in Slytherin. All our family have been. What about you? Where are your parents?”

“They’re dead.” Hadrea said flatly, wishing she could strangle the boy.

"Oh, sorry," said the other, not sounding sorry at all. "But they were our kind, weren't they?"

"They were a witch and wizard, if that's what you mean."

"I really don't think they should let the other sort in, do you? They're just not the same, they've never been brought up to know our ways. Some of them have never even heard of Hogwarts until they get the letter, imagine. I think they should keep it in the old wizarding families. What's your surname, anyway?" But thankfully, before Hadrea could come up with some sort of deflecting answer, Madam Malkin told her she was finished.

“Well, see you at Hogwarts, I suppose.” drawled the boy. Hadrea just nodded and hurried away. She hadn’t liked the boy at all. She suspected that he was from one of the old, pureblood families that thought they were better than everyone else.

The twins, who had been waiting by the door, walked over to her as she paid for her uniform. Fred threw the pale boy a disgusted look.

“That looks like Lucius Malfoy’s son. The Malfoys were big supporters of You-Know-Who, but when y-, I mean, When _Hadrea Potter_ defeated You-Know-Who, the Malfoys came back saying they hadn’t meant any of it. Dad doesn’t believe it.” He explained.

Hadrea wrinkled her nose. “Well, I don’t care. Let’s go to Ollivander’s now, I guess.”

When they arrived at the small, shabby store, Hadrea felt it was sort of anticlimactic. It was dim and dusty inside, and she didn’t see any furniture, but for a single, spindly chair, and there was not another person in sight. The room felt strange, it seemed to be humming, or like there were muffled voices speaking in a language she didn’t know

Hadrea took a deep breath -- and promptly coughed on all the dust in the air.

“Hello?” She asked, looking nervously about the room through watery eyes.

“Ahh….” A voice spoke out of a dim corner behind a shelf, and Hadrea, Fred and George all jumped. “I wondered when I’d be seeing you, Miss Potter.” A man appeared around the shelf. He was thin and stooped, with wispy white hair that reminded Hadrea of Candy Floss, and Large, creepy eyes.

“Er.. Mr. Ollivander?” Hadrea inquired.

“Yes Miss Potter. It seems only yesterday your mother was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work."

 

Mr. Ollivander moved closer to Hadrea. Hadrea wished he would blink. Those silvery eyes were a bit creepy.

 

"Your father, on the other hand, favored a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your father favored it -- it's really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course."

 

Mr. Ollivander had come so close that he and Hadrea were almost nose to nose. Hadrea could see herself reflected in those misty eyes. She wondered if Mr. Ollivander was a bit crazy, or if this was all an act to impress little witches and wizards. She suspected both.

 

"And where is the scar?”

Though Hadrea had a plethora of scars, she had a feeling she knew which one he was talking about. “Its concealed.” She answered uncomfortably.

"Ah Yes… I'm sorry to say I sold the wand that did it," he said softly. "Thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Powerful wand, very powerful, and in the wrong hands... well, if I'd known what that wand was going out into the world to do..."

He shook his head and said, “Well, I suppose we should get to it. Let me see… Which is your wand arm?”

“Well… I’m ambidextrous, but probably the right.” Hadrea answered uncertainly.

“Interesting…” Mr Ollivander got out a tape measure and measured Hadrea from shoulder to finger, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit and round her head. As he measured, he said, "Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance, Miss Potter. We use unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers, and the heartstrings of dragons. No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons, or phoenixes are quite the same. And of course, you will never get such good results with another wizard's wand."

 

Hadrea watched as the tape measure continued to measure on its own. Mr. Ollivander was flitting around the shelves, taking down boxes.

 

"That will do," he said, and the tape measure crumpled into a heap on the floor, from where it had been measuring the space between Hadrea’s nostrils.. "Right then, Miss Potter. Try this one. Beechwood and dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Nice and flexible. just take it and give it a wave."

 

Hadrea took the wand and (feeling a bit foolish) waved it around a bit, but Mr. Ollivander snatched it out of her hand almost at once.

 

"Maple and phoenix feather. Seven inches. Quite whippy. Try--"

 

Hadrea tried -- but she had hardly raised the wand when it, too, was snatched back by Mr. Ollivander.

 

"No, no -- here, ebony and unicorn hair, eight and a half inches, springy. Go on, go on, try it out."

 

Hadrea tried. And tried. She had no idea what Mr. Ollivander was waiting for. The pile of tried wands was mounting higher and higher on the spindly chair, but the more wands Mr. Ollivander pulled from the shelves, the happier he seemed to become. Hadrea suspected that he enjoyed making his customers wait.

 

"Tricky customer, eh? Not to worry, we'll find the perfect match here somewhere -- I wonder, now -- yes, why not -- unusual combination -- holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple."

 

Hadrea took the wand. She felt a sudden warmth in her fingers. She raised the wand above her head, brought it swishing down through the dusty air and a stream of red and gold sparks shot from the end like a firework, throwing dancing spots of light on to the walls. The Weasley twins whooped and whistled and Mr. Ollivander cried, "Oh, bravo! Yes, indeed, oh, very good. Well, well, well... how curious... how very curious..."

 

He put Hadrea's wand back into its box and wrapped it in brown paper, still muttering, "Curious... curious…”

Hadrea wondered if it would be a dangerous thing to ask _what was_ curious, but her own curiosity got the better of her, and she asked, “Sorry, but what’s curious?”

Mr. Ollivander fixed Hadrea with his pale stare.

 

"I remember every wand I've ever sold, Miss Potter. Every single wand. It so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather is in your wand, gave another feather -- just one other. It is very curious indeed that you should be destined for this wand when its brother -- why, its brother gave you that scar."

Hadrea blinked. Now _that_ was unexpected. _But was it really, though_? Voldemort had sought her out, had failed to kill her, and had given her her scar. Was it really so unexpected that she would be connected to him even more?

"Yes, thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Curious indeed how these things happen. The wand chooses the wizard, remember... I think we must expect great things from you, Miss Potter... After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things -- terrible, yes, but great."

Hadrea thought she could understand his viewpoint, though she couldn’t say she agreed with it. Voldemort had done powerful things, horrible things, but great? No, Hadrea didn’t think she liked Mr. Ollivander very much.

Hadrea was quiet as she paid the 7 Galleons for the wand and left the shop. The Twins could see that something was wrong, but knowing that she’d probably tell them if she wanted to talk about it, they kept silent.

“Alright! What’s left on my list?” Hadrea asked suddenly, making Fred and George jump. “Just the Owl OR a cat OR a toad bit, it looks like.”

“You’d want an owl.” Fred advised

“They’re dead useful.” George agreed.

“Very smart!” Fred continued.

“Carry your mail for you, too!” George finished.

“Okay!” Hadrea said, laughing. “An owl it is, then.”

They went to Eeylops Owl Emporium, which was crowded and dark, and smelled musty. Hadrea walked along the rows of cages, studying each of the owls intently, but none seemed to appeal to her. Finally, on the last row, she saw a beautiful snowy owl with amber eyes, who seemed to be staring straight at her. Hadrea walked over to the cage.

Behind her, an attendant warned, “Be careful with that owl, Miss. She’s very temperamental. Hasn’t let anyone touch her since she got here.”

Hadrea looked closely at the owl. “My name is Hadrea,” She told it, “I’m looking for an owl. Can I take you out of your cage?” Hadrea was surprised when the owl gave a bark and bobbed her head. Smart indeed!

She unlatched the door of the cage and reached her arm in. The owl seemed to study her a moment longer before hopping forward and latching onto Hadrea’s arm. She carefully lifted her out of the cage, and the owl flew from her arm to her shoulder.

“How much is she?” Hadrea asked the attendant who had been watching with amazement.

“Oh! Umm… 15 galleons.” The attendant answered. Hadrea nodded, and took the owl up to the front of the store, paying for the owl and cage, as well as a large perch for her to roost on.

“Trust you to find the owl with attitude.” George said from behind her. Hadrea just did the mature thing and stuck her tongue out at him.

                                                             .oOOOo.

Later that day found Hadrea sitting by herself, eating lunch in the Leaky Cauldron once again. She had told the Weasleys that she had a few more things to pick up, and she’d get home on her own. Eating fish and chips with her defense book (‘The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self Protection, by Quentin Trimble) open on her lap, she felt quite content.

After lunch she went into the bathroom and changed back into 19 year old Amaryllis, before taking a stroll in Knockturn Alley. She didn’t like the place at all. It was dark, most of the shops were rather dodgy, and the people were even dodgier. But she was curious about some of the stores here. She passed a Shop Called Borgin and Burke’s, which appeared to have all sorts of artifacts of a dark nature, Another store that collected and sold animal parts for potion ingredients that were probably illegal, and another that sold books full of dark spells and rituals. Finally, she came to a shop that really interested her. It was a custom wand making shop, as the sign in front proclaimed. Bring in your own wand wood and core, give the maker a design, and he’d make it for you. Hadrea wondered why this shop was in Knockturn Alley, although she supposed that if it was in Diagon it would put Ollivander out of business.

She resolved to return to this store at some point, if she ever found something she’d like for a core of a wand. The next store she passed was a magical menagerie, but it sold unusual animals that probably were very expensive (and were hard to obtain and required a license to own). Hadrea’s love for animals convinced her to at least have a look around the shop. There were crups (dogs much like the Jack Russell Terrier, except with forked tails and a dislike of muggles), many different reptiles and amphibians, such as snakes, chameleons and salamanders (the magical kind), Kneazles (which were similar to housecats but a bit different looking and much more intelligent), and some larger animals such as hippogriffs, several different breeds of winged horse, hippocampi, and fire crabs.

She could see that all of the animals were unhappy in their cages, and she could tell that they weren’t treated well. _‘I wonder if there are people in charge of animal welfare in wizarding government?’_ she thought. She was sure that most of these animals would have been happier outdoors. She resolved that if she was ever to use her fame and money in any political way, it would be for these creatures.

Realizing that it was again becoming late, she quickly left Knockturn Alley. It was a dodgy place during the day, so Hadrea would hate to see what sort of place it was at night. It was still a little early to be going home, but it was too late to do any serious shopping, so Hadrea decided to take a visit into Gambol and Japes Wizarding Joke Shop. She amused herself inside the store for another hour, before finally deciding to head home. She would be going to Hogwarts in just a few short days, and she found that nothing could distract her from her excitement and eagerness. But before she headed off to Hogwarts, she had one last thing she needed to do.

                                                                                                                .oOOOo.

The little village was quiet today. Of course, it was almost always quiet, but today, with summer almost over and children returning to school, it lacked some of the sound that had been present for the last couple months. Suddenly, the peace and silence was disturbed by a loud bang, and a triple decker, violently purple bus appeared out of nowhere on the outskirts of the village. A moment later, a tall young woman with spiky black hair and blue-green eyes walked down the steps of the bus and onto the street.

It was August 30th, and Hadrea would be going away to Hogwarts in just two days. She had lived in the knowledge of the magical world for two years, but she had found it extraordinarily difficult to discover the location of the people she was visiting today, and no wonder. This village in the West Country was about as rural and inconspicuous as it could get.

Hadrea walked down the quiet dirt road, hearing another bang as the bus departed behind her. She passed lots of small cottages, all similarly designed. Hadrea had learned, in researching the village, that a good portion of its population (which was really quite small) was magical. It was a nice out-of-the-way place for old witches and wizards ( _very_ old witches and wizards, Hadrea thought, as she remembered the increased lifespan of magical people) to come for retirement. It was also a somewhat popular sightseeing location, for the same reason that Hadrea was visiting the place today.

Finally, after walking a ways down the road, Hadrea came to a church, with a graveyard. As Hadrea lifted the latch and entered the graveyard, she noticed that the headstones were quite varied in degrees of age. She supposed that this was because only people who lived in the village of Godric’s Hollow were buried here, and the population was not great. As she passed the Headstones, looking for one name in particular, she noticed many names that were familiar to her from the wizarding world, such as Abbot, Dumbledore, and Peverall. Finally, she reached the names she was looking for. On a large headstone, Hadrea found the two names that she had been both dreading and longing to see. In large letters, the headstone read:

                                                                                                      _In Loving memory_

_Of_

_James Potter                                                                Lily Potter_

_Born 27 March, 1960, Died 31 October, 1981              Born 30 January, 1960, Died 31 October, 1981_

_The Last enemy that shall be destroyed is death._

Hadrea kneeled on the grass in front of the stone. Her parents had been only twenty one years old when they had died. Only ten years older than Hadrea was now. Hadrea sighed as she realised this. They were barely more than kids. Far too young to be engaged in a war and hunted by a terrorist, and far, far too young to die. Hadrea’s finger traced the words at the bottom of of the headstone. _‘The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death’._ Hadrea wondered at the quote. Did it mean that death was a thing to be fought, to be overcome? Hadrea hoped not. She didn’t like to think that something like this would be on her parents headstone. Hadrea didn’t recognize it, but she supposed the quote was from the bible, and if put into context, it could mean something quite different.

Hadre wished she’d have thought to bring some flowers with her, but no sooner had she thought this, than she remembered that it was the end of summer, and there was a veritable acre of wild flowers at the edge of the cemetery. She quickly ran over and gathered a nice bouquet of Bluebells and foxglove. She took the flowers, still damp with morning dew and smelling lovely, and walked back to kneel in front of the grave. It was strange to think that her parents, the people who brought her into the world, and who gave their lives for her, were lying, safe (but still dead) in a box deep under the grass and clover she was standing on.

Hadrea had never understood why people talked to graves. If her parents could hear her, could know she was talking to them, why must it be at the place where their bodies were buried? And if they couldn’t hear her, why bother talking at all? She supposed it provided some closure to people who had actually known the person they were talking to. But to her, it just felt strange. She could wait to speak to them until she saw them in person, though she hoped that was still a while away.

Hadrea wasn’t afraid of death. She wasn’t afraid of dying herself, nor of what happened to people after they died. What she was afraid of was being left alone. Her parents, no matter how much they had loved her, had left her. Albus Dumbledore, when he had placed her with the Dursleys, however well meaning he may have been, had left her too. Hadrea hadn’t thought she could be more alone, but then she’d met the Weasleys. She didn’t think she could stand it if Fred and George left her too. ‘ _But that’s not going to happen’_ , Hadrea told herself. _‘I’m gonna make sure that creep Voldemort is gone, and I’m not gonna let him come back. Fred and George aren’t gonna leave me.’_

Hadrea stood up, laid the flowers where she had been kneeling, and gazed once more at the headstone, and the names inscribed, before turning and leaving the cemetery. She still had one thing she needed to find. She walked the opposite direction from where she’d come, and she’d only gone a couple of paces before she came to an old war memorial, which, when she approached it, changed. It became a statue, or rather, three statues. A young man and woman, holding a baby. The memorial made Hadrea smile a little. She had never seen what her parents looked like, and though as a statue they were just gray, it was easy to pick out some features. Hadrea had inherited her father’s high cheekbones, and, it appeared, his messy hair. Her mother’s nose and wide, almond shaped eyes also appeared to have been passed on to her daughter. As Hadrea walked past the statue, it turned back into a simple obelisk with names inscribed upon it.

Hadrea continued to walk up the lane, past cottage after cottage, until she came to the very end of the road, and the last house on the row. The walls were crumbling, ivy was curling it’s way up the sides, and the garden was overgrown with weeds and grass. Most of the building was still standing, but one corner of the house appeared to have been blown apart. The rubble was scattered on the ground, and the roof was gone. Hadra supposed that this was where she had been when Voldemort had tried to kill her, and his curse had backfired. She wondered why nobody had rebuilt the house.

Hadrea stepped forward, and lifted one hand to lift the latch on the gate. As soon as she had touched it, a sign rose out of the ground. It read:

_‘On this spot, on this night of 31 October 1981, Lily and James Potter lost their lives. Their son, Harry, remains the only wizard ever to have survived the Killing Curse. This house, invisible to Muggles, has been left in its ruined state as a monument to the Potters and as a reminder of the violence that tore apart their family.’_

All around the sign, words had been carved into it. _‘Good luck, Hadrea, wherever you are.’ ‘Thank you, Hadrea Potter!’_ and _‘The wizarding world is behind you, Hadrea.’_

Hadrea wondered who these people were. Random citizens, who had come to see the famous sight? Old friends of her parents, come to visit their graves? She didn’t think it mattered. Hadrea hadn’t done anything to deserve their thanks or admiration. She didn’t know why Voldemort hadn’t been able to kill her, but she doubted she really had anything to do with it. After all, she had been all of fifteen months old at the time.

Hadrea opened the gate and moved past the fence. Wading through the grass, which was almost as tall as she was, Hadrea tried to avoid tripping on any bricks or shingles. She stepped up onto the porch and slipped through the still open door. She was surprised to find that the cottage appeared to be in decent condition. The couches had acquired mold and moths, and the wooden furniture appeared to have rotted a fair amount (Hadrea doubted any of it was safe to sit on), but it didn’t appear as if any sort of fight had taken place. Everything was in a position as if it had been the most normal of days when the house had been abandoned. Except, Hadrea remembered, for the room upstairs.

Up the creaky stairs she walked. Hadrea was sure that if her Aunt had been here, she would have had a heart attack and died at the amount of grime and dust in the house. There were two rooms upstairs. A large room she assumed had been her parents’, which was still largely intact, and an empty space, which she supposed had been her nursery. There was nothing left of it, really. The hallway which lead from the stairs just stopped abruptly, ending in the open air, with no roof, floor or walls left. Hadrea almost wished that there had been something, some souvenir of her past, left for her to see.

Hadrea didn’t want to be here anymore. She had thought maybe seeing the place would make her feel better, but it hadn’t. It was nice, she supposed, to have seen it all, to have some sort of picture of what it might have been like, but actually, having seen the house she would have grown up in, the village she would have been raised in, it just made her wish more that her parents hadn’t died, that Voldemort hadn’t found them. It just made her wish more that they were there for her, when she knew they weren’t.

Hadrea walked back out through the house, down the stairs and out the door. She walked through the grass, past the sign, and out of the gate. She only spared a moment to latch it behind her once more before walking up the road once again. Once reaching the other end of the road, and the outskirts of the town, she called the Knight Bus to pick her up and take her back home.


	3. Chapter 3: Stations, Songs and Sorting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... Hi... Sorry its been so long everybody... School is keeping me extraordinarily busy and I haven't been doing so great lately. Its hard to find motivation to work on this, but I promise I'll try as hard as I can to keep working on it and not desert it. :)
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Never have, never will.

The Morning of September 1st, 1991 was an exciting day for many in the wizarding world. It was the first day of school, and not only that, but it was the day Hadrea Potter was going to Hogwarts. Eleven-year-olds up and down the country bounced in excitement, knowing that soon they’d be at school with her, maybe in the same house as her, possibly even  _ friends  _ with her! Imagine! But there was nobody more excited than Hadrea Potter herself. 

So it was, that on this morning, the morning of September 1st, 1991, Hadrea stood in the crisp, cool autumn air at King’s Cross Station, in front of a barrier between Platforms 9 and 10. It was about 10:15 am, and it was unlikely that there would be anyone on the platform. Today, Hadrea was looking like herself, an eleven year old girl with radiant green eyes and choppy, shoulder length black hair with dark green streaks matching her eyes in it. She was wearing  an Alice In Chains t-shirt, leather jacket, ripped leggings and combat boots- in short, she looked unusually troublesome and unlike what people would expect her to look like, which was just what she was going for- only the twins (and possibly the other Weasleys but she looked a fair bit different so maybe not) would recognize her, and she’d probably be mostly left alone. This was also why she’d arrived fairly early. She didn’t want to attract attention, although Hadrea supposed that she still would with her punk outfit and dyed hair. But at least she’d be left alone.

Hadrea wheeled her trunk and owl cage toward the barrier between the platforms, glanced around to make sure nobody was watching, and quickly slid through the entrance into Platform 9 ¾. The platform was nearly empty, so Hadrea was able to slip onto the train unnoticed, before going all the way to the back and taking the very last compartment. She’d agreed to meet the twins here (if they made it before the train left, she thought, rolling her eyes), and hopefully since it was the last one not too many others would try to come in as well. 

Hadrea quickly stowed her truck in the overhead rack, slipped off her backpack, and plopped herself down in a seat nearest the window. She opened her backpack and pulled out her sketchbook and pencils, before beginning to draw a sketch of the view from right outside the window she sat next to. 

She was so absorbed in her drawing that she didn’t notice the compartment door open until the kid who’d opened it spoke.

“Hey!”

Hadrea was so surprised she almost jumped, but successfully hid her shock as she glanced up from her book at the boy, who looked about the twins’ age, but was taller and had dark skin and dreadlocks. She didn’t say anything, just raised a single eyebrow questioningly at him.

“This compartment is reserved. Has been for three years! Go sit somewhere else, kid.” 

Hadrea figured this kid must be a friend of Fred and George’s, and decided that this was the perfect opportunity to play a little prank. She glanced around the compartment, and then unconcernedly went back to her drawing. 

“Didn’t you hear me, kid? This compartment is reserved, and unless you wanna be on the receiving end of the Weasley twins’ pranks, you should get out of here.”

“But what if I want to sit here?” Hadrea asked conversationally, as if she hadn’t heard the threat. She casually reached into her pencil case to choose a new color and didn’t look at the other kid.

“Don’t you get it? This is a reserved compartment. Go find some other firsties to sit with.” The boy said with a grunt as he heaved his trunk into the overhead.

“Oh no, I think I’ll stay here. I’m very much enjoying the view from outside this window, you see.” Hadrea replied, gesturing to the window and barely holding back a smirk as she saw how frustrated she was making this boy.

“You’ll get the exact same view from the next compartment down.” He insisted, gesturing toward the door, “I’ll even help you carry your trunk over.”

“Thanks for the offer, but I really have become quite infatuated with this particular scene.” Hadrea said, smiling sweetly.

The boy gave a long-suffering sigh and plopped himself down in the seat at the other side of the compartment from Hadrea, before saying, “Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you!”

Hadrea just gave another innocent smile before going back to her drawing and watching outside, waiting for the redhead clan to arrive. As expected, it was 10:57 when they finally came rushing into the station, Mrs. Weasley looking harried, with little Ginny clutching her arm, Percy and Ron looking annoyed and the twins just looking amused.

Mrs. Weasley gave Percy the Prefect a quick hug before he bustled away towards the prefects compartment. Then she hugged each of the twins before gesticulating wildly with a stern face (Hadrea assumed she was telling them off), before turning to Ron, giving him a hug and a kiss, and, before he could pull away, wiping at something on his nose. Hadrea saw the twins heading for the back of the train and quickly went back to her drawing, the perfect image of an innocent (but punky) eleven year old on her way to Hogwarts.

Hadrea heard footsteps outside and then the compartment door slid open. She looked up, stowing her sketchbook with the finished drawing and her pencils into her backpack, before turning to watch the show.

“Lee!” George cried, throwing his arms into the air.

“How’ve you been?” Fred asked, tossing an arm over the newly named Lee’s shoulder.

“Had a good summer?” George interrupted before Lee could reply. Lee opened his mouth again, but was once more interrupted by Fred.

“Excited for a new year of Mischief-” He began

“And Mayhem?” George finished.

Lee looked upon them with the kind of awe Hadrea thought she had when looking at someone with a particularly extravagant hair color or style of dress. 

“Yeah- Yeah I’ve had a good summer. Ho-” But before he could say anymore, he was interrupted, once again, by Fred.

“Superb!” He cried.

“Excellent!” George added.

“Marvelous!” Fred continued.

“Stupendous!” George countered.

“Magnificent!” Fred interjected.

“Spectacular!” George finished.

“Uhh.. yeah.” But before Lee could say any more, he was stopped again. Fred and George had noticed Hadrea.

“Hadrea darling!” George began.

“Dearest Hadrea!” Fred added.

“How farest the fairest?” George asked. 

“I’m fine, thanks for asking.” Hadrea replied, keeping a straight face.

“George! Do you see? She didn’t even ask us how we were!” Fred cried, looking stricken and putting and hand to his heart.

“Why Fred, you’re right! You wound me, Hadrea my sweet!”

Hadrea managed to keep from bursting into laughter, but was stopped from giving a retort by Lee, who had finally had it with being interrupted and cut out of conversation.

“Woah, Woah, Woah! You three already  _ know  _ each other?!” He asked indignantly, realization dawning upon his face. 

At this point, Hadrea could keep it in no longer, and burst into a peal of laughter, I pointing at Lee and choking out, “You should see your face!”

The twins, at this point, had a taste of not knowing what was going on, besides that some prank had obviously been played. Hadrea was completely lost within her own laughter, so the twins were forced to look to Lee for an explanation.

“She got here before I did and was just sitting by the window when she came in! I told her this compartment was reserved, and she just said she wanted to stay anyway because she liked the view!” He cried indignantly. “She could have just mentioned she knew you guys and I would’ve been fine with it, but noooo!” Here he threw his hands up into the air. “She just had to play a prank on me! I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised though, if she’s friends with you.”

Now the twins too were laughing, and even Lee allowed himself a chuckle at his own expense, before everyone calmed down and Hadrea decided to introduce herself.

“Hi. I’m Hadrea Potter. I’ve been the twins’ secret friend for a couple years now- I live in Ottery St. Catchpole near them, and we bumped into each other.”

“Lee Jordan.” Lee replied, eyes doing the usual quick flick up to her forehead. “Hadrea Potter, really? Somehow I never imagined you to be the type of person to make friends with them.” Here he jerked his head towards the twins.

“Well,” Hadrea began, “I didn’t exactly  _ choose  _ to make friends with them. They didn’t give me a choice. Kept following me around after the second time we saw each other. Wouldn’t leave me alone!” 

“Oh but you’re glad we did now, aren’t you?” Fred replied.

“Well, I suppose so. Life would have been exceedingly boring without you two.” Hadrea answered, grinning. 

Just then, a knock sounded at the compartment door, and it was slid open to reveal a sweet looking lady pushing a trolley filled to the brim with cauldron cakes, pumpkin pasties, liquorice wands, Drooble’s Best Blowing Gum, chocolate frogs, and Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans. 

“Anything off the trolley, dears?” She asked, poking her head into the compartment.

Everyone quickly clamoured to dig some coins out of their pockets and buy some sweets. Hadrea bought some chocolate frogs and a couple cauldron cakes, before the trolley moved on to the next compartment and Hadrea, Lee and the twins were alone once more.

The rest of the trip was blessedly uneventful, besides when a couple first years popped into the compartment looking for a toad. Hadrea advised them to ask the Prefects for help. That was what they were there for, after all. The Twins, Lee and Hadrea spent the time playing exploding snap and gobstones. Finally, they heard a voice across the train, saying, “We will be reaching Hogwarts in Five minutes time. Please leave your luggage on the train. It will be taken to the school separately.” The three boys already had their school robes on, and Hadrea only needed to throw her robes on over her clothes, so they were ready in short order.

When the train finally slowed and stopped as it pulled into Hogsmeade station, the twins helped Hadrea get her trunk off the carriage before them and Lee had to leave Hadrea alone. Just as she was beginning to wonder and worry about what she was supposed to do now, she heard a loud, deep voice calling, “Firs’ years! Firs’ years over ‘ear!” 

She followed the voice to come upon a huge man, twice as tall as anyone Hadrea had every seen, and covered in such a mess of black hair that you could barely make out his face. He held a lantern in one hand, and was still calling, “Firs’ years this way!”

Slowly, the 11 year olds gathered together. Hadrea was surprised, considering how many students there were overall, to find that there were very few first years. When they had finally grouped into a crowd of jittery, excited children, The huge man lead them down a path until they reached a lake, where, pulled up onto the shore, was a fleet of little boats.

“No more’n four to a boat!” Hagrid told them. 

Hadrea got in a boat with the twin’s little brother Ron, A girl with Bushy, brown hair and another pudgy, nervous looking boy, who was clutching a toad, which Hagrid had just saved from drowning itself. As soon as everyone was loaded into a boat, they slipped smoothly into the water and began to glide across the lake. 

As they rounded a bend, Hogwarts castle finally came into view. It was like a fairy tale. One of the most amazing things Hadrea had ever seen. Towers above Towers, Pinnacles, Battlements, glittering with hundreds of candlelit windows.

Soon, the boats bumped gently into the shore on the opposite side of the lake and everyone clambered out to stand on the pebbly beach. Hagrid lead them up a long path to the front door, which he knocked on three times. The door was opened by a stern looking woman in emerald green robes. 

“The Firs’ Years, Professor McGonagall.”  The huge man said, gesturing towards the small group of children.

“Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here.” The woman, now identified as Professor McGonagall said. Her voice had a distinct scottish brogue. She led the children inside, past a huge room from which they could hear the chattering of hundreds of people, and into a room on the side. 

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room.

"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rulebreaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."

Her eyes lingered for a moment on Neville's cloak, which was fastened under his left ear, and on Ron's smudged nose. Hadrea watched the girl next to her attempt to tame her bushy brown hair.

“I shall return when we are ready for you.” Professor McGonagall told them. “Please wait quietly.” She left the room.

Whispers broke out around Hadrea as all the first years began nervously discussing the Sorting. Most of them didn’t seem to know what it actually was. The girl beside Hadrea was whispering all the spells she knew, and wondering which ones she’d need. Hadrea knew that Fred had convinced Ron that they had to wrestle a troll. Hadrea simply stood quietly. 

Once, she stiffened as she heard the pale blond boy she’d met in Madame Malkin’s asking people if they’d seen Hadrea Potter yet, but nobody had an answer for him, so it seemed she had yet to be recognized.

Just when everyone was beginning to get bored and wondering when something was going to happen, several people screamed, and gasps were heard, as about twenty pearly white, slightly transparent ghosts came streaming through the wall opposite them. they glided across the room talking to one another and hardly glancing at the first years. They seemed to be arguing. What looked like a fat little monk was saying: "Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance--"   
"My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost -- I say, what are you all doing here?"   
A ghost wearing a ruff and tights had suddenly noticed the first years.   
Nobody answered.   
"New students!" said the Fat Friar, smiling around at them. "About to be Sorted, I suppose?"   
A few people nodded mutely.   
"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" said the Friar. "My old house, you know."   
"Move along now," said a sharp voice. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start." It was Professor McGonagall. The ghosts collectively drifted out of the room (through a wall, again) beginning to continue their argument. “Now, form a line, and follow me.” She told the first years, and they all filed out of the room. 

As they trooped into the Great Hall, Hadrea almost ran into the sandy-haired boy in front of her as he halted suddenly, staring in awe at the room around them. Hadrea couldn’t blame him, really. It was spectacular.  The room was gigantic. Four tables ran along the hall the long way, each filled with students, and up at the end of the room on a raised platform at another table sat the teachers. The room was lit up by hundreds of candles, floating up above the tables. The ceiling, though, was what drew Hadrea’s eyes the most. It was absolutely mesmerising. It was enchanted to look just like the sky, outside, which meant that it was just beginning to be lit with stars. 

Hadrea stared at the ceiling, entranced, until she realized that the first years were moving up onto the raised platform where the teachers sat. They moved into a nervous clump next to a stool, on which sat a patched, frayed and dirty wizard’s hat. The Sorting hat. It’s mouth opened wide, and it began to sing.

 

"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,  
  
But don't judge on what you see,  
  
I'll eat myself if you can find  
  
A smarter hat than me.  
  
You can keep your bowlers black,  
  
Your top hats sleek and tall,  
  
For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat  
  
And I can cap them all.  
  
There's nothing hidden in your head  
  
The Sorting Hat can't see,  
  
So try me on and I will tell you  
  
Where you ought to be.  
  
You might belong in Gryffindor,  
  
Where dwell the brave at heart,  
  
Their daring, nerve, and chivalry  
  
Set Gryffindors apart;  
  
You might belong in Hufflepuff,  
  
Where they are just and loyal,  
  
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true  
  
And unafraid of toil;  
  
Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw, if you've a ready mind,  
  
Where those of wit and learning,  
  
Will always find their kind;  
  
Or perhaps in Slytherin  
  
You'll make your real friends,  
  
Those cunning folk use any means  
  
To achieve their ends.  
  
So put me on! Don't be afraid!  
  
And don't get in a flap!  
  
You're in safe hands (though I have none)  
  
For I'm a Thinking Cap!"  
  
The whole Hall burst into applause at the end of the song, and Hadrea joined them. Then they all turned their attention back to Professor McGonagall, who had unfurled a long roll of Parchment.

“When I call your name, you will put on the hat, and sit on the stool to be sorted.” She cleared her throat, and called out “Abbot, Hannah!”

  
A pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails stumbled out of line, put on the hat, which fell right down over her eyes, and sat down. A moments pause --  
  
"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat.  
  
The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table. Hadrea saw the ghost of the Fat Friar waving merrily at her.  
  
"Bones, Susan!"  
  
"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat again, and Susan scuttled off to sit next to Hannah.  
  
"Boot, Terry!"  
  
"RAVENCLAW!"  
  
The table second from the left clapped this time; several Ravenclaws stood up to shake hands with Terry as he joined them.  
  
"Brocklehurst, Mandy" went to Ravenclaw too, but "Brown, Lavender" became the first new Gryffindor, and the table on the far left exploded with cheers; Hadrea could see the twins catcalling, and threw them a grin.  
  
"Bulstrode, Millicent" then became a Slytherin. Hadrea, glancing over to the table, finally understood where Slytherin got their reputation from. They looked very unpleasant. Hadrea had read the books, and she knew that Slytherin was not meant to be the house of the evil any more than Hufflepuff was the house of the idiots, but it was clear to see that they brought that prejudice upon themselves.  
  
Hadrea started to feel slightly sick. This reminded her far too much being picked for teams during gym at her old school. She had always been last to be chosen, not because she was no good, (though she was) but because no one wanted Dudley to think they liked her. The few times she’d tried to make friends before she ran away, the other children had been scared away by Dudley.  
  
"Finch-Fletchley, Justin!"  
  
"HUFFLEPUFF!"  
  
Sometimes, Hadrea noticed, the hat shouted out the house at once, but at others it took a little while to decide. "Finnigan, Seamus," the sandy-haired boy next to Hadrea in the line, sat on the stool for almost a whole minute before the hat declared him a Gryffindor. she supposed maybe some kids fit into more than one house and the hat had to decide which was best.  
  
"Granger, Hermione!"  
  
Hermione almost ran to the stool and jammed the hat eagerly on her head. She sat for two minutes before-  
  
"GRYFFINDOR!" shouted the hat.   
  
When Neville Longbottom, the boy who kept losing his toad, was called, he fell over on his way to the stool. The hat took a long time to decide with Neville. When it finally shouted, "GRYFFINDOR," Neville ran off still wearing it, and had to jog back amid gales of laughter to give it to "MacDougal, Morag." Hadrea frowned around at those laughing. The poor kid had been so nervous and embarrassed, didn’t they consider his feelings at all?  
  
Draco Malfoy, the sneering blond boy swaggered forward when his name was called and got his wish at once: the hat had barely touched his head when it screamed, "SLYTHERIN!"  
  
Malfoy went to join the other Slytherins, sitting next to two huge, slow looking boys, looking rather pleased with himself.  
  
There weren't many people left now. "Moon"..., "Nott"..., "Parkinson"..., then a pair of twin girls, "Patil" and "Patil"..., then "Perks, Sally-Anne"..., and then, at last --

 

“Potter, Hadrea.” Whispers broke out everywhere, and everyone craned their neck, a couple small second years even stood on their seats to get a look at the Girl-Who-Lived. Hadrea kept her face a mask of calm as she swept over to the stool, picked up the hat, sat down and placed it on her head. The hat fell right down over her eyes, confining her senses to a musty scent, a murky darkness and silence.

Then, a voice penetrated her mind.  _ ‘Well, well, well… We’re a tricky one, aren’t we, Miss Potter?’ _

_ ‘Hello, Hat.’ _ Hadrea thought politely. ‘ _ What do you mean I’m a tricky one?’ _

_ ‘Well,’  _ continued the hat,  _ ‘By everyone else’s perspective, you could go anywhere, really. One of the most well rounded eleven year olds I’ve met in a long time. You could be in Gryffindor; very brave and a strong moral compass, you could be in Ravenclaw, you’re very smart and level-headed. You could also be a Hufflepuff. You’re very loyal to those who’ve earned it, and you work hard to achieve your goals. Those two aspects could also make you a Slytherin, added to your cunning and sly nature.’ _

_ ‘Oh…’  _ Hadrea was stumped. She didn’t think her mother had written anything about someone who could be in  _ all  _ of the houses. Nor had any of the books she’d read said anything on the subject. _ ‘But what did you mean ‘by everyone else’s perspective?’ _

_ ‘Well, the last several centuries, the method by which I sort students has been confused. The Wizarding World in general believes that I sort students based on their strongest traits, which is true, to a point, but what the way I truly sort students is not by what traits they most value. So, Ms. Potter, do you most value chivalry and courage, wit and learning, cunning and ambition or loyalty and hard-working?’ _

Hadrea thought for a moment.  _ ‘What do I value most?’  _

The hat let her think for a while, and finally interjected.  _ ‘Remarkable… It seems, Miss Potter, that you really  _ could  _ go in any house. You do not value any trait over another, seeing them each as equally important. Well then, Miss Potter, where do you  _ want  _ to go? Which house would be the best place for you? You decide.’ _

Hadrea considered all of the houses. Which would be the most useful to her in the long run? Knowledge, Loyalty, Ambition or Courage? What sort of people did she want to be in a house with? Smart kids, Hard working and nice kids, sly and ambitious kids or chivalrous and brave kids? She knew the hat was following her thoughts. She had made her decision.


End file.
